orward to the knock at the door, which was followed by the
appearance of Kettles and her spelling-book. This interest partly made
up for the loss of Pennie, which had left a sad blank in Miss Unity's
life at first. Here was another little living creature she could teach,
rebuke, praise, and care for, and if Kettles could not fill Pennie's
place in Miss Unity's heart, she could at least give it enough to do to
keep it warm and active.

Although she would not have confessed it, her interest in the black
children of Karawayo began to fade just now, and though she still
attended the Working Societies and kept the missionary-box on her hall
table, she was much more really concerned about Keturah's first
pot-hooks and hangers.

Meanwhile the new maid showed such marked progress in household matters
that Betty gradually allowed her to appear upstairs, and on some
occasions to open the door to visitors.

"What a nice, bright little maid you have!" said Mrs Merridew, who was
calling one afternoon. "One of the Easney school-children, I suppose.
Country girls are so superior."

"I've always noticed that," said the dean, as Miss Unity paused before
replying, "the town children are sharp enough, but they're generally
wicked. And the country children are honest and steady enough, but as a
rule they're so dull."

Miss Unity listened with the respect she always showed to any remarks of
the dean as he went on to enlarge on the subject. Once she would have
agreed with him as a matter of course, but now she had a sort of feeling
that she really knew more about it than he did. What would he say if he
knew that the bright little maid Mrs Merridew had admired came from the
very depths of Anchor and Hope Alley?

Time went quickly by, till it was nearly a month since Pennie had gone
away, and Keturah had come to help Betty. She had come "on trial" as a
stop-gap only, but no one said a word about her leaving yet. Certainly
Betty's wrist was still weak, and this gave Miss Unity an excuse she was
glad to have. She almost dreaded the day when Betty should put off her
sling and declare herself quite well, for that would mean that there was
no longer any reason for keeping Keturah.

"I am thinking, Betty," she said one morning, "of asking the young
ladies from Easney to come over to tea to-morrow. Miss Pennie will be
interested to see how well Keturah has got on."

Betty brightened up at once.

"I'll see and make some hot-cakes